


Kaz, good old mate Kaz

by blushingninja



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushingninja/pseuds/blushingninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After retiring Kaz Miller trains his dogs in Alaska with his boyfriend Revolver Ocelot who owns a restaurant on a lake.</p><p>Christmas Trade 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kaz, good old mate Kaz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SocialDegenerate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDegenerate/gifts).



> This whole prompt has a LONG story behind it, message for details otherwise just dream and believe it!  
> For my lovely, wonderful and bestest friend/wife/housemate Jade  
> Please note I have never played these games but have picked up enough approximate knowledge through osmosis to enjoy the fandom. Merry Christmas and bless.

The winter had come in far colder this year. And it would probably continue to do so for the next couple of seasons no doubt. Shifting his ski mask more securely about his chin, Kazuhira Miller reigned in an excited pup pulling at his bounds and raring for a run. 

“Soon” Running a hand over the dog’s fluffy ears, the ex merc checked the time, resisting the urge to pull out his sat phone and check the whereabouts of his cargo. But he was just being impatient. It had been a long three days out on the ice, but it would be worth it in the long run. His dogs needed to be on top of their game and that meant many a long days on the tundra training and running drills. By this point now he was used to sleeping on the ice although it was playing havoc with his back and prosthetics. All he wanted now was to return back to мать базы and spending a night in front of the fire. On a real bed, without an icicle or sniffy, drooling dog snout in sight. And it would come soon enough, if only his cargo would hurry up and arrive. 

 

Said cargo which was now close to half an hour late. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, the roads around here weren’t the best and with the constant threat of snow storms and the ever shifting condition of the few paved roads, it was seldom ever on time. That didn’t make him any less impatient, for home, bed, a beer and a well cooked meal. The blast of a truck horn had his dogs cowering and him jumping. Watching the dark, mechanical monolith emerge from the fog and increasingly thickening sleet, Kaz put on a frown. The horn was unnecessary, rude and had him hoping he could fit everything in on an entire trip, saving him a trek through the snow and having to deal with another loud, senseless human being. Waving down the truck and settling his pooches with a sharp whistle, he readied the sleigh and waited for the long, hard work to come. Gruelling as it may be the reward at the end would be so worth it. 

  
  


It took hours, literally hours but after following the familiar route as a second nature, a lake came into view and Kaz heaved a sigh of relief. Home. Finally. мать базы was the brainchild of Ocelot and supported by Kaz become a reality some years later. Sweat, blood and tears were spilt and quickly turned to ice as their dream become a real. A top huskie stud and a Michelin star restaurant, not bad for a couple of old spies. Said retirement investment was doing them quite well with Kaz’s pups fetching a high price online and sold all over the world, while Ocelot regional and seasonal foods brought guests from all over to eat at his restaurant. Standing as a dark dot to the stark, white hozien мать базы was built to withstand the worst of the winter Alaska had to throw at them, as well as accommodating for a scattering of guests and the kennels out the back, it was a large building but nothing on the true mother base where they’d once both served. 

 

Dropping off the supplies and precious cargo with the kitchen staff, the ex merc warmed down his beloved sled dogs with many a cuddles and brushing. Leaving the rest in their kennels, he checked in with his staff before making a beeline to the kitchen and the promise of food. Revolver Ocelot’s Michelin star winning cooking skills came pretty much out of nowhere. The Russian born and raised triple agent was fussy at the best of times when it came to food on missions so maybe his promotion from spy to chef shouldn’t have been that surprising. Still his popularity had been somewhat miraculous and it never ceased to amaze Kaz how busy the bouquet, isolated eatery was. 

 

Slipping in via a side door and soaking up the heat and scents of the kitchen, he gravitated towards the nearest open tray. Having lived on nothing freezed dried beef jerky and granola bars for the past three days, food, any food was pretty high on his to eat list.                                           

**“** Put a finger in that and I’ll cut it off.” Pausing mid step, the voice scolding him both familiar and grating, Kaz put on a winning smile before turning on his heel, arms open wide.

“Well how about whipping me up a sandwich? Something warm, perhaps soup?” Staring him down with a frown, Ocelot did not at all look impressed. 

“Can you a sandwich?” Voice ladened with his heavy, native accent, the smaller man shook his head. “No, no sandwiches for you. Especially smelling like that.” Grinning as he slid in closer, Kaz took in his partner's attire with an appreciative eye. Tight chef’s white pulled across his chest contrasted well with his pale hair and eyes, arms crossed and looking more than a little pissed he was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. Did you see all the cargo I shipped in. Surely there’s some sandwich supplies in there.” 

 

Dodging nimbly aside as his filthy companion went in for a hug, Ocelot pointed to the door with disdain. 

“Shower first then we’ll talk. I have three bookings for this afternoon, you’ll be lucky to get a sandwich at all.” Pouting as he heaved a sigh, the taller man shrugged and made to leave, stopped only as his partner catch his hand. “Welcome back. Thanks for the delivery.” 

  
  


Thankfully the cold had never really hampered his mobility, not like the heat or desert. Thinking back to the old days of sweat and sand, Kaz shuddered. No the cold and ice were much better and he was much better suited to the sub arctic environment. Coming out of the shower and drying quickly, the plush comfort of the bed was pretty much impossible to leave. Glancing at his prosthetics and heaving a sigh, hunger would no doubt force him back down into the kitchens sooner rather than later, unless Ocelot was feeling particularly caring would decide to offer room service. Dragging himself downstairs from the quarters he shared with his fellow double agent, he loitered around the kitchen until the bang and crash of pots and pans settled. Slinking in with a stealth worthy of his old career, he hunted down his partner and stared him down expectantly. It would have been rude of him to just demand food right then and there and it would no doubt creep Ocelot out if he simply stared without a word, some things were worth the wait. 

 

“Sandwich is there, you have a note from one of the trainers.” Annoyed at his lack of ability to pester, Kaz went to straight to fridge as directed, fishing out a beer and munching down a sandwich as he watched the shorter man work. It was almost like a dance, his hands moving seamlessly over the spice and salt, from pot to pan and back to the plate. Greens coupled with the reds of meat and a dark sauce, it was more art than food but Kaz was quietly just pleased with his sandwich. 

“How long until you’re done?” Wiping a hand over his forehead and rubbing his eyes, Ocelot looked over at the tickets lining the pass. 

“At least another hour. Why? Want any other sandwich?” Washing down the final bite of said sandwich with a shrug, Kaz shuffled awkwardly side to side. Balancing his weight from foot to prosthetic, he flashed the Russian a quick smile. 

“I could eat again but I’d rather take a bite of you.” Almost dropping a serving bowl, Ocelot rounded on his companion with a stern expression. 

“If you’re just going to stand there running your mouth you can leave.” Putting on a pout and leaning across the stainless steel counter, Kaz hoped to coax his partner into skipping work early. 

 

“But I am doing something.”

“Oh really?” Passing a full set of plates to a flustered line cook, Ocelot raised an eyebrow. “Explain?” Beckoning him closer with a crooked finger, Kaz couldn’t help but grin as the chef moved in towards him. 

“I’m appreciating.” He should have expected the shove and yet it still managed to catch him off guard. His partner wasn’t a full time gunslinger anymore but he still had strength in his remaining hand and it packed a hell of a punch. 

“Appreciate later, I’m busy right now.” Perking up at the word  _ later _ , Kaz winked as he pushed himself up and off the counter, swaggering to the door with the final word. 

“Oh I intend to, you had better not keep me waiting.”


End file.
